


Nobody Wants to be the Last One There

by Jambeth



Category: One Tree Hill
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Consensual Underage Sex, Drug Addiction, F/M, Falling In Love, Female Friendship, Love Triangles, Male Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Self-Harm, Teenage Parents, Underage Drinking, Unrequited Love, Young Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 06:47:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1888953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jambeth/pseuds/Jambeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Julian and Brooke. Together, they are a vision straight out of a blockbuster. Nathan and Peyton. Together, they will more than likely be lost at sea, but apart they'll drown. Sometimes, though mirages are mistaken for visions, and life jackets aren't always enough to keep you afloat during a hurricane. Brulian, Neyton, Clara, and a bunch of other OTH characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jabby and Bumblebee

I love writing and sharing my work with fellow One Tree Hill fans, but feedback helps keep me inspired. So, please do leave me a review. :) 

 

 

Part 1

He is mesmerized by her, her eyes twinkling as she skips down the hall, a short lavender and baby blue skirt swishing around her thighs with every movement, her best friend begrudgingly following behind. To put it simply, she is beautiful, breathtaking, gorgeous. And it is obvious and that every guy in a 100 foot radius thinks the same thing.

His best friend, Haley James, thumps him on the back of the head, effectively averting his attention to her. He attempts to glare at her, but fails to do so when he sees the heart warming smile on her face.

"Seriously Julian, are you really going to spend another year pining over that…that airhead?"

He shrugs simply and proceeds to open his locker, his gaze wondering back over to their current topic, only to find her gone. His eyes return to his female best friend and she rolls her eyes.

"You're just as bad as Luke, ya know that?"

Julian, repeating her earlier action, rolls his eyes, a grin set firmly on his face the entire time. His petite friend shoves him playfully, and he sidesteps away from her, avoiding any other abuse she may inflict.

"I am nowhere near bad as him…" Julian disagrees, not at all liking the accusation.

Haley snorts, but before their conversation can continue Lucas joins them, his eyes narrow, expressive pensive as always.

"Luke, what's got you so serious?"

Julian gives her a look that says 'are you serious?', but she ignores it. Lucas is always serious. Always sulking about something. But, that's okay. He's apart of their little group, his family. And Julian wouldn't have it any other way.

"Whitey wants me to join the team." His blue eyes rise from the floor and flicker between Julian and Haley. They are vulnerable and conflicted.

Haley looks up to Julian, her eyes begging him to say something, anything. But, he remains silent.

"Well, what do you want, Luke?" The girl asks.

The blond shrugs. "I just want to play the game. I don't care where."

"Do you just want to play the game, or do you want to LIVE the game?" Julian speaks up, his voice surprising both of his friends.

Lucas' eyebrows knit together in confusing, and Julian refrains from shaking him. They both know the blond knows what he means, and that the basketball player is just scared.

"What do you mean?" But the question is voiced anyway.

"I mean, it all comes down to how much you love basketball, how big of a part of you it really is."

Haley's brown orbs are looking between her male friends, wide and anxious, hoping that a confrontation is not about to break out. Because, while the two men were best friends, and it was obvious they cared deeply for each other, they still had their problems, ones the two of them only seemed to know.

Lucas simply nods. "Alright."

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Brooke Davis desperately fights sleep, her eyelids slipping closed every once in a while as the math teacher droned on and on about inputs and outputs.

She is awoken by a sharp stab in the back. She whips around, her eyes narrowed in a glare. Nathan is wearing a smirk, his blue eyes dancing with mischief.

"What the hell, Scott?"

"Pay attention, Davis. You heard what Whitey said, one F and you're off the cheer squad, miss captain."

"That squad wouldn't know what to do without me," she shoots back.

"Miss Davis, Mr. Scott. Detention." Mrs. Parker's voice is firm and matter of fact. Yet, Brooke lets out a small whine.

"But, Mrs. Parker the first cheer practice is tonight, and well, I really, really have to be there, or that skank will take over MY squad. Plus, Nathan, here he's the one who poked me!"

Nathan sneers, and speaks up. "It's not like you haven't been poked with bigger things in various other places."

Brooke spins around in her seat, her hazel eyes fiery and angry, but then her face crumbles, and Julian has a front row seat from his spot in the middle row.

"Leave her alone." It comes out low, but angry and menacing just the same.

Nathan turns towards him, searching the room for the source of the sound. Then his eyes land on him, and Julian meets his stare head on.

"What did you say?" The dark-haired boy stands from his seat.

Julian does the same. "I said, leave her alone."

He risks a glance over at Brooke, who is looking at him in wonder. And in that split second that his attention is diverted, he is punched in the gut. But, Julian quickly returns the hit, and leaves his own mark on Nathan's face, splitting his lip and then making what will later be a black eye.

But, the fight doesn't end there, desks are knocked over, and students hurry from their seats with shrieks and gasps. Then, Brooke is there, in front of him, her eyes soft and his fist stops mid-swing. But, Nathan seems to not have noticed in his fit of anger and his fist connects with the side of her face, and she screams out her best friend's boyfriend's name.

Nathan freezes, and something in the boy changes, he looks at Brooke, and his hands start to shake. Brooke's hand moves from it's spot where it was holding her bruised cheek, and she is reaching for the blue-eyed boy.

"Natey, you didn't mean to. It's okay." Her voice is soothing, but it does nothing for the tears gathering in his eyes. And Julian suddenly sees the other man as human.

He shakes his head, and mouths the word 'never', before hurrying out of the room.

"Julian, I am so disappointed in you. I expect this kind of thing out of Nathan and Brooke, but not you." are the first words out of one of the male teacher's mouth that Mrs. Parker had fetched. "Go to the principle's office."

Brooke hangs her head at the teacher's words. The teacher turns to Brooke, seemingly having just noticed her. "You too, Miss Davis."

Mrs. Parker halts the young woman, and Julian stops in the hallway, just outside the door as well. "Brooke."

"Yeah."

"Forget about detention." The teacher's voice is gentle and loving, and the smile Julian loves so much shows itself just a bit, but not quite.

The dimple-smiled girl turns around, and nearly runs right into him. Her hazel eyes look into his for a moment, and then she is hurrying down the hallway.

"Where are you going?" He asks, stupidly.

She glances over her shoulder, without stopping. "To the principle's office."

He can't help but notice the difference in her step, and the slight slump in her shoulders, but her head is still held high.

"Oh, yeah." His voice is low, and he hangs his head.

Since he is looking down at his feet, he doesn't notice when she stops, and nearly knocks her over. He snaps his head up, his arms coming up to balance her.

"I just wanted to say thanks," she says, and her voice is genuine, her eyes soft.

If someone had told him yesterday that he would have his body plastered to Brooke Davis', the girl of his dreams, he would have punched them for mocking him. But, here he is, and here she is, and he is completely fucking speechless.

She chuckles quietly, and he stiffens because he thinks she's making fun of him. But, then her slim fingers are running through his hair, and he relaxes or maybe he tenses even more, he doesn't know. All he can concentrate on is her hand in his hair.

"I like your hair," she compliments, her voice raspy, as always. But, right now, it sounds sexier than it normally does, even though there is no change in it's tone.

"I hate it," he blurts out, and she frowns.

"Ya know its rude to disregard someone's compliment. Especially a pretty girl's."

They stay like that, neither one of them making any move to separate their bodies. Her fingers continue their massage on his scalp, even as her frown remains on her flawless face. He clears his throat, lacking ideas of anything else to say. Not that, that would really count as talking.

"Don't you think I'm pretty?" She questions, her voice low and oh so sexy.

"Of course I do," he answers.

She steps away, taking her touch with her.

"That compliment doesn't count," she says, walking again, not giving him time to get his head together.

He, reflexively, goes on the defense. "Why, because it came from me?"

She turns around so she is walking backwards, and even though he doesn't want to, he is worried that she might hurt herself.

"No, because I practically had to pry it out of you."

He wants so badly to tell her how beautiful she is, how since eight grade she has been the main star in his every fantasy. But, when he opens his mouth, words fail him. She tilts her head to the side adorably, and it reminds him of a puppy. And he realizes he must look like a fish with his gaping mouth, and quickly closes it. She seems disappointed, and he just about to say something, anything to take away that look when they reach their destination.

They both take a seat in the little waiting area after informing the security of the presence. Brooke suddenly looks sad, and to anyone else it would be easily overlooked, but Julian has spent enough time watching her to know her every emotion. It only takes a few moments before he is being called back to see Mr. Turner.

Julian already knows his mom isn't going to care about his 'little confrontation', as Mr. Turner put it, but the principle calls her anyway to inform the woman of his expulsion. Not suspension. Expulsion. And Julian immediately knows that Dan Scott has pulled some strings to have this done.

The authority figure looks apologetic, as he informs him to gather his personal belonging from his locker, and to tell Miss. Davis to do the same. He wants to ask why Mr. Turner won't talk to her or if he has even called her parents, but decides its not any of his business.

When he exit's the office and spots Brooke in the chair, she is the same exact position as before. Legs crossed, and examining her nails as if they are going to change drastically any minute.

"Brooke," he says, effectively catching her attention, as she looks up at him. "We're both expelled."

Her mouth forms an 'O', and she is on her feet and in front of him before he can utter a word. "I am so sorry, Julian. This is all my fault."

She is talking, babbling even, but all he can concentrate on is the fact that she said his name. His name actually left the perfect lips of Brooke Davis. Then her grunt of frustration brings his attentions back to her.

"You're not even paying attention to me, are you Juju?" She accuses, her eyes sparkling with anger.

He shrugs, helplessly. "Sorry."

Something about his apology must have made her happy, because her dimples are out in full force, and she is dragging him out of the fronts doors of the school by his hand.

They stop, well she stops, and he does because she has been controlling their movement and direction the entire time.

"Please tell me you drove to school!" She pleads, her eyes are hopeful, and he can tell she is barely containing her childish excitement.

He really doesn't want her to see his old truck, even though he is proud of it. After his father had left, Julian had sold the mustang his dad bought him, and with the help of Lucas and Keith fixed up his Dodge truck. His mom has offered, numerous times, to buy him a new car, or more like demanded, insisting that it was embarrassing to have her son driving such junk, but he declines ever time.

Her face falls at his lack of response. "You didn't, did you?"

Sighing, he retrieving his keys from his jean pocket, and she lets out a shriek and rocks back and forth, from the heels of her feet, to the tips of her toes. She does her little happy clap, clasping onto his forearm with both hands and beginning to drag him towards the parking lot.

"Come on Juju, we gotta go. Like, now!"

He chuckles, and allows her to drag him. "Um, Brooke, do you even know which vehicle is mine?"

She bits her bottom lip, looks up at him, and shakes her head. "Which one is it?" She asks, or more like demands.

He rolls his eyes, and she glares at him.

"That one," he replies, pointing towards the old, temporarily muddy truck.

Her eyes widen, and he panics. She hates it, he just knows it.

"You like mudding. I've never been. Can we go? And it's perfect right now. I mean, it just rained yesterday. Oh, wow. This is perfect!"

She skips over to the passenger door and attempts to open it, and then groans, clearly impatient.

"Julian, unlock it," she whines.

He stands there, dumbfounded, shocked by her reaction by his muddy truck.

Hands on her slender hips, she comes up with a new nickname for him, one he isn't sure he likes. "Come on, fun sucker. It's time to go!"

But, the smile playing on her lips makes it obvious its all in good fun. Before long both doors are unlocked, and he helps her into the big wheeled, four door truck. He inserts the keys into the ignition and starts it, but takes a moment to watch as her manicured nails run along the dash board.

She doesn't belong in this car. She doesn't look right in it. But, then she turns to him, smiling, a real, true, patented Brooke Davis smile and changes his mind, almost.

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Peyton Sawyer studies her boyfriend, worriedly. His face is bruised, but that's not what has her worried. He's been in plenty of fights and has always come out on top, but is always left with a little damage. There's something off about him. And it becomes painfully obvious when he comes up to her locker and actually folds her in his arms, kissing the top of her head.

"I love you, Pey," he whispers.

The words make her hold on his waist tighten. His feelings for her were known, but not often spoken, or shown especially recently. But, it was moments like this, when she is reminded why she hangs on to their bent and frayed relationship, because even if it is damaged, it's not broken, not yet. And she's gonna hang on for dear life until the last string holding them together breaks.

"I love you, too Nate."

He shakes his head, and she feels the movement against the top of her head. She becomes desperate, a feeling she hates, when he pulls away. His rough hands cup her face, and he kisses her, gently and it lingers.

"No, you don't. You can't. I won't let you."

And because they are the middle of the hallway, with people staring at them, she allows him the walk away. She knows he'll come back, he always does. This is just another one of their fights. Right? No, it's not. She's not that stupid. She knows her boyfriend, the real him, and just now, he is hurting, worse than she's ever seen. And she will always regret having not gone after him. She already knows that.

And there's not going to be any mind blowing make up sex after practice tonight, or her hanging up on him after one of his half-ass apologies. She wishes, just once, that he would let her in. That she would let him in.

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After not hearing or seeing Julian since first period, Haley is becoming worried. It's halfway through lunch, and Lucas has his nose in a book, while she searches the cafeteria for her other best friend. Giving up, she pulls out her cell phone and dials his number.

After the eighth ring, his voice intrudes her ears, it's breathless. Her eyes narrow, her thoughts suspicious, her eyes just happening to glance over to the cheer table and noticing a lack of a certain cheerleader.

"Hey Hales, what's going on?" He sounds so innocent that she wants to pull his hair out.

"I don't know, you tell me. You're the one who's not at school."

"Oh um, about that. I got expelled." His voice is kinda nervous, but only for a second, because soon he is laughing, and there is most certainly a female laugh mingling with his. "Look, Haley, it's not what you think. It was for a just cause, okay? Just, I'll explain everything later. Love you." Then the line was dead.

Lucas has looked up from book some time during her phone conversation, and his eyes are concerned.

"Is Julian okay?" He asks.

She nods, dumbly. "He sure sounded okay to me."

Lucas reaches across the table, his warm hand covering hers, settling her shaking hand.

"Are you okay?"

"No. Yes. I mean. I don't know." Frustrated, she runs her hands through her light brown hair. "I just, I really care about him. And she, she's gonna hurt him. I know it."

"How do you know?"

She studies the table clothe that covers the picnic. "I just do…"

"Is it, maybe, because she's not you." It isn't a question, and that angers Haley beyond comprehension.

She is about to retort, but he says something before she can. "Just tell him how you feel, Hales. It's okay."

She frowns. "It's not that simple."

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He is completely doused in mud, as is Brooke. He isn't quite sure how they ended up in the lake, half naked. But, he doesn't mind, at all. Her face is pensive, and she appears deep in thought.

"Who was that? Your girlfriend?"

He shakes his head. "No, just Haley, my best friend."

"Haley James," she questions, and he is surprised that she knows Haley's full name.

"Um, yeah."

Her small hand tucks a wet hair behind her ear, even though there isn't one there.

"She doesn't like me." And for some reason he can tell that seems to bother her.

He wades over to her, closing the space between them. "Yeah, she does," he assures her, even though it's a lie.

She smiles, slightly. "You're not a very good liar, Jabby."

"Jabby? Where'd that one come from?"

She smiles, full fledge this time. "Well, I looked you up on face book, and your middle name is Andrew…so Julian Andrew Baker…Jab…Jabby."

"I am convinced now, more than ever, that smart phones are evil," he states, his fingers trailing up her bare sides, before he begins to tickle her.

She squeals, wiggling around, trying to escape his hold on her. "Jabby, stop!" She orders, giggling and squirming.

"Nope, Bumblebee."

"No more Jabby," he reasons.

"Okay, okay…I give..I give." As soon as she is free of him, she is hurrying to dry ground, and yelling "jabby" over her shoulder.

He hurries after her, grabs her around the waist, and spins her around. He loses his footing and they both end up in the sand, him on his back with his arm out, her on top of said arm, face down, though her face is turned towards him.

They are both laughing, though it is slowly coming to a stop, turning into an occasional chuckle and giggle here and there. They lay in silence for a while.

"Jabby…"

"Yeah, Bumblebee?"

"You're amazing."

He remains silent, because he isn't sure how to respond to such a heartfelt compliment coming from a girl as beautiful as her.

"I don't want this to be a one time thing, Jabby. I wanna, ya know, be friends." She sounds nervous, but that must be his imagination.

He looks over at her, to find that she is already looking at him, her face resting in the palm of her hands. He nods, and she smiles.

"Why didn't Mr. Turner call your mom?" The question hangs in the air for a long while, and she is tense.

It isn't long, though, before her smile is plastered back on her face. "She wouldn't care. She probably wouldn't even answer the phone," she explains, with a casual shrug, but he knows, that down deep she cares, even if she acts as though she doesn't.

"They called my mom, and she answered. But, she didn't care," he offers.

"Julian Andrew Baker, you are one amazing man," she whispers, and there is something about this moment, so intimate, and he never wants it to end. "What you did for me today, defending me, no one has ever done that for me. Not even Nathan." She chuckles bitterly. "Hell, you were defending me to Nathan." She smiles sadly. "It wasn't always like that, ya know, with Natey."

He notices the use of the nickname she had used earlier that day, and waits for her continue, curious about her story with the basketball player. But, she doesn't speak after that. Not for a while anyway.

"Even though Nathan is the one Dan claims, Lucas has it better, trust me." She sits up, and begins to play with the mud clumped sand and dirt around her.

Julian frowns. "Yeah."

"Nobody's life is simple." Her voice is sad. "Perfect."

He sits up, and takes her hand in his. "Come on, school is over by now, I'm sure."

He stands and urges her to do the same by tugging gently on her hand. She looks up him, questionably.

"I want you to meet someone."

She smiles. "I think I should probably get dressed first," she informs him.

He chuckles. "I think you should, too."

After dressing himself, he watches, amused, as she struggles to pull up her soaked skirt. She looks when he chuckles, a pout set firmly on her lips. Eventually, she manages to get it up and over her hips, and they are on their way to their destination.

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Haley busies herself wiping down the counter, the lack of customers leaving her with nothing to do. Then, as if mocking her for wishing for customers, Julian enters with, none other than Brooke Davis. Her eyes narrow, and her shoulders tense when Brooke smacks at Julian's arm, giggling at something he said.

The cheerleader doesn't laugh obnoxiously like she does, Brooke's laugh is like a melody that carries across the room. Or at least until, the girl starts to gasp for air, and begins to 'hehehehehe.'

The couple take a seat at a booth, across from each other. Both of them are covered in mud, from head to toe. The brunette says something to Haley's best friend, and he blushes, and Haley clenches her fists.

"Are you okay?" Karen's voice comes out of nowhere.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I'm just gonna go wait on them…"

Plastering on her best fake smile, she walks over to the table, and clears her throat to attract their attention. Brooke's hazel eyes land on her and she smiles widely.

"Hey, Haley. I'm Brooke Davis." Her voice is friendly. And hopeful?

Haley just nods in respond, and Brooke's smile falters, and Julian glares at her. Not at Brooke, but at her, as in Haley. Her. And it hurts, so badly, to be on the end of the look she's seen him give many others who have hurt her in the past.

"I…um…can I have a vanilla root beer?" Brooke asks, and Haley studies the girl closely, surprised that the cheer captain actually requested something, and didn't demand it.

She nods, but this time she adds words to it. "Yeah, sure."

"Jules?" Haley asks.

"Coke." His answer is curt and it stings.

When Haley turns to leave, she pauses just long enough to hear Brooke say, "Jabby, why were you so rude to Haley?" Her voice is scolding.

Guilt starts in her gut and spreads throughout her, swallowing her up with it's intense, unpleasant feeling. She hurries away before she can hear Julian's response.

Brooke's phone rings, a ridiculous pop song practically blaring, before she answers.

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_"Hey, P. Sawyer."_

"B. Davis, where are you? Practice started fifteen minutes ago?" Peyton asks. It was like Brooke to be late, but not for anything cheerleading related.

_"Umm, yeah, about that. I got expelled."_

Peyton can't stop the sob from escaping, but thankfully it's silent. "Oh, well. I'll guess I'll see ya later?"

_"Of course, P? What's wrong?"_

"Um…nothing. Nathan is just acting weird, but you know him. He's probably just in one of his moods."

The line was silent for a moment.  _"Yeah.."_

"Well, I gotta go B. Davis. Practice is about to start. Love you."

_"I love you, too. P. Sawyer."_

After the call ends, Peyton throws her phone over with the rest of her stuff, the device landing perfectly on her book bag. When she turns around her eyes connect with a pair of blue ones she knows so well. She attempts a pathetic smile, and its temporarily returned, at least until the other Scott boy enters the gym.

Everything freezes, literally, as everyone in the coliseum stops to watch Lucas walk through the door, as if he is some mythical creature. Then, as if everyone in the room is all one being, all eyes turn to Nathan, waiting for his reaction. The dark-haired boy just shakes his head, eyes turning to her, searching for something, and whatever it is, he seems to find what he needs, because he smiles. The look leaves her breathless.

A couple new girls, a red head who is very well endowed in the chest area, and a brunette who is practically skin and bone both announce themselves as captain. Peyton doesn't recognize either of them. She stares off into space as the two girls argue before coming to an agreement to be co-captains.

Practice is intense, not for the cheerleaders, but for their company. Despite the lack of confrontation between the Scott brothers at the beginning, its obvious that Lucas and Nathan are against each other, even though they are on the same team during the practice.

After practice, she waits for him outside the boy's locker room, wanting nothing more to take away all his problems, and take away all the demons in his eyes. But, when he exits, he glances at her, dismisses her with a wave of his hand, before continuing on.

She grabs his arm, stopping him. She feels him tense under her touch, but he doesn't attempt to escape her hold.

"Nate, talk to me, please."

"Peyton, leave me alone." His voice is cold, but her hold doesn't loosen. She knows him, and knows that he doesn't mean it. He can't. It's just not possible. Not after all they've been through.

"No." Her answer is short, stern.

He turns around so fast, she is nearly knocked off her feet, but he quickly grabs her around the waist. She touches his face, and he relaxes into her touch. She smiles softly.

"I can't be with you, Peyton. All I'm gonna do is hurt you. All I've ever done is hurt you."

"Yeah, but, we've gotten through it, and…"

"It's gotten worse, blondie. I've gotten worse."

Nathan leaves her there, stunned, tears in her eyes. Suddenly, another Scott appears in front of her, blue eyes squinted, face concerned. She glares at him, knowing that if her boyfriend-she refuses to refer to Nathan as her ex- sees her with his half-brother it'll crush him.

"What the hell do you want?" She asks, not giving him time to answer, as she walks over to the bleachers to gather her belongings.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Nathan can be an ass sometimes."

She whips around, her curls hitting her in the eyes. "You don't know him, Lucas Scott." She bites out his last name. "Since we're calling names…you're friend Haley is a bitch."

Lucas' jaw clenches. "No, she isn't."

Peyton's eyebrows rise. "No? Then why does she blow off Brooke every time she tries to talk to her? Huh?"

Lucas opens his mouth to retort, but closes it.

Peyton smirks. "That's what I thought." She walks away, leaving a stunned Lucas behind.

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Brooke's phone rings again, and she receives another annoyed look from Haley. It's Peyton again, and even Julian and her are in the middle of a conversation, she signals for him to be quiet, and mouths 'Peyton.' He nods in understanding.

"Hey, P. Sawyer," she answers.

There's silence, and Brooke is just about to repeat her friend's name when a sob crosses the line.

"Peyton, are you okay?" The first sob is followed by another, then a third, before they are coming one after the other. "Honey, what's wrong? Is it Nathan? Did you guys breakup? Is it your dad? Is he okay? Pey, you have to tell me, I can't guess. Just breathe."

The sobs just continue, and Brooke's worry turns to fear. "Peyton, where are you?"

"Bridge…" The word is muffled and breathy as another sob makes it nearly impossible decipher.

"Okay, I'll be there. Just…hang on, okay. Everything is gonna be okay."

As soon as the call ends, Brooke is standing from her seat. "Julian, can you please take me to Peyton…she is really upset, and…"

He wraps an arm around her and she relaxes just a little. "Of course."

They are leaving just as Lucas is coming in. Lucas' eyes meet hers and something in them make her unsettled.

They don't talk much on the way to secret spot that Brooke and Peyton had dubbed as 'theirs' many years ago. In fact they didn't talk at all.

Not until Julian speaks up. "Haley wasn't who I wanted you to meet. I mean, ugh, I didn't expect her to react like that. But, this other person would have reacted a lot kinder, a lot more welcoming. She will, that is, if you still want to meet her."

Brooke looks over at him, and finds herself smiling. "Yeah, I'd like that."

He doesn't look at her, but he smiles at her answer. He doesn't have any problem finding the place, and is soon pulling up to the ledge under the bridge. It's around seven, nearly dark, and the truck's headlights illuminate the figure of a distraught Peyton Sawyer.

She is still in her tiny shorts, and tight tank top from cheer practice. Julian watches as Brooke hurries out of the car and to her friend. Her small arms somehow manage to wrap completely around Peyton. The blond begins to break down, and out of respect he shuts off the lights.

"Nathan broke up with me," she cries."

Brooke tightens her hold on her close friend. "Sssh, P. It's all gonna be okay." She hasn't ever seen her friend react this way to a break up before.

"No, you don't get it. Brooke, this time it's different. It's done, for good."

"He…he…he told me he loved me and then…he just…he was gone." Her voice is broken, devastated.

"He does love you, Peyton. More than anything. Did he tell you why?"

"He said he couldn't hurt me anymore. That all he ever did was hurt me…and that he had gotten worse."

"Peyton, I…" Brooke trails off, unsure of how to word what she needs to say. "There was a fight today, between Nathan and Julian, the guy I've been all day. He got pretty intense, and I tried to break it up, and when I did, Nathan accidentally hit me, but it didn't leave any bruises. Or marks. Or anything. So he must have tried to slow down, but it was just too late. So now…"

"He thinks he's gonna hurt me, physically. That he's gonna become Dan," Peyton finishes, in almost a whisper.

"Yeah," Brooke confirms.

Dan Scott has never hit Nathan, at least not recently. Not since Nathan has learned to fight back. But, the mayor of Tree Hill manages to keep control of his son in other ways, by using Deb. Dan being afraid of Nathan doesn't mean that Nathan is actually strong enough to overpower his father.

"I gotta talk to Nathan, tonight."

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Nathan is drunk off his ass. He can't see straight. He can't see anything, not even the small girl that is currently straddling him, busying herself with unbuttoning the stupid navy blue dress shirt that Brooke had bought for him. But, he can see Peyton, no matter how drunk he gets.

Every time he closes his eyes, she's there. Her green eyes and blond curls. Sometimes, she's sweaty, laying tangled in his sheets in the afterglow of an orgasm, she's mid-orgasm, she's sketching, sleeping, cheering, glaring at him, but most of the time he sees the last look she gave him, that heartbroken look.

"Nathan!" The voice of the girl he is currently trying to fuck shouts his name, and he forces himself to pay attention to her.

"What?" He growls, and it's not an aroused growl.

"I am doing all the work, you're just laying there. I feel like I'm raping you."

"Yeah, well maybe you are."

She huffs, and climbs off of him, the heal of her foot digging into his flaccid penis. He winces, but doesn't make any move other than that.

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Lucas cocks his head to the side, as Haley scrubs at one of the tables angrily. The open sign has long since been turned around, leaving just him and his best friend, and his mom, who was busy tending to something in the back.

"I just, I don't know what Julian sees in…in that…that skank," she finally gets out.

Lucas lets out a breath. He walks over to her and covers her hand with his own, halting her frantic movements. "Hales, have you considered the fact that maybe you're judgment is unfair?"

Her brown eyes narrow, but only for a short moment, and soon her shoulders are slumping in defeat. Lucas turns her around to face him, and smiles softly.

Tucking a hair behind her ear, he says, "this isn't you, Hales. You're above this."

Her eyes look up towards the ceiling thoughtfully, before focusing on him. "Yeah," she says, resigned, "what really sucks is that she's been so nice to me."

"Yeah well, Peyton isn't any kind of angel."

Haley let out a dramatic sigh of relief, before pumping her fist in the air. "Yes! Finally, one of my boys come down to earth!"

He laughs and pulls Haley against his side. "Oh, Hales. What am I going to do with you?"

"The real question is what are we gonna do with Julian?"

Lucas shrugs. "I don't know. It seems like Brooke and him might actually be building a genuine friendship."

Haley pulls away him, her mouth gaping open. "Are you serious, Luke?"

"Hales, what did we talk about?"

She glares at him.

"Look, I heard why he got expelled. Nathan was saying some nasty stuff about Brooke, and Julian stood up for her. I would have done the same thing."

"So now you're obsessed with her…" Haley's arm flap at her sides in exasperation.

"No, I just don't like it when girls are disrespected."

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After dropping Peyton and Brooke off at Peyton's, Julian decides that maybe it is best he visit Haley. He looks at the truck's clock, and concludes that she's probably still at the café.

Once he parks in front of the small family restaurant, he walks in, using his key to unlock the door. Lucas and Haley are the only two people left in the place. Not even Karen seems to there.

Haley looks up at him, and she looks hurt and accusing. Lucas excuses him and says something about having to clean the milkshake machine. Julian takes the abandoned seat across from Haley, and takes her hand. She tenses, but soon after relaxes.

"Haley, you are one of my best friends, and that is never going to change."

She smiles, but there is something about that makes him feel uneasy and concerned.

"Hales, talk to me."

"I just…everything is changing and it's only the first day of our junior year. I guess, I always thought it would be the three of us."

He nods. "Me too. But, I'm happy that's it not anymore."

She tenses beneath his touch, and immediately her hand is gone from under his.

"Come on, Haley. Just get to know her. She's not what people say she is. Bumblebee is a good person. She really wants you to like her."

"Bumblebee?" The word is full of hatred and jealousy.

Julian blushes. "It's…ugh…her nickname."

"Julian, she's….not a good person. She's mean…and judgmental," Haley insists.

He shakes his head. "It seems to me that you are the judgmental one. The mean one. All she wants is for you to like her. You really hurt her feelings tonight, Haley. This isn't you, not the Haley I know. When my best friend comes back, give me call. Until then, just, take time to think."

Haley opens her mouth, but words fail her. He leaves, slamming the door of his truck so hard, the entire vehicle shakes.


	2. Loafers, Crocs, and Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brulian, beach, Neyton, alcohol, hospital, Lucas, Haley, blood, jealousy.

Part 2

 

It is insanely late, or more like early, depending on who you are, and how you look at such things. But, that doesn’t stop Julian from running his calloused fingertips over the ripped piece of paper that Brooke had left in his truck sometime during the night with her number on it. Something about her loopy manuscript makes the generic, plain blue ink exotic and vibrant. The large letters run into each other, are attached, even though they are clearly not cursive. He assumes that, like everything else about Brooke, this is unique to her. 

There’s a small note, meant just for him, written in much smaller letters than her name and the number. The handwritings isn’t near as loopy, it’s neater, and the thought that maybe she had spent extra time on it makes him feel giddy, and no matter how amazing this girl is, his reaction to such a simple thing is still embarrassing. He’s grateful that he is alone, especially when he notices himself squirming around like a middle school girl. 

He clears his throat and stills himself, sitting up straight in bed. The note, just like the first twenty times he has read it, says…

Julian…Jabby J 

Call me or there will be consequences. 

Bumblebee 

It’s short and sweet. More like tart. Ya know, that flavor that reigns you in with it’s sweetness but you know that if you eat too much of it, you’ll tongue will be suffering for it the next week, if not longer. Well, Brooke is tart. Sweet, sour, and everything in-between. And, even though he knows there is no possible way this can end well, he finds himself dialing her number. For the simple reason of she is Brooke Davis, and he is Julian Baker, and he has been obsessed with her for years. But, its more than that. 

A hoarse “hello,” brings a smile to his face, and diminishes all negative thoughts from his mind. “So, you found my note, huh, Jabby?” She asks, a throaty laugh following right after. 

He chuckles in return. “Yeah, I did.” 

“Didn’t take you long to call,” she adds, her voice low and he can barely make out the noise of what sounds like blankets shuffling. 

“Did I wake you up?” There isn’t an answer for a few moments, and for some reason he is almost certain that she used some sort of head motion to answer his question. “Brooke, I can’t see you, darlin. You have to use words.”

She giggles, and there is definitely a nervous hint to it. “Well, um, yes, no.”

“Brooke…” he scolds, jokingly. 

She groans. “Uhh. Fine, yes, but don’t hang up, I really do want to talk to you, Jabby.”

He smiles, and its so wide that it actually hurts his facial muscles. He stays silent, and she uses it as an opportunity. 

“Come pick me up, Julian. We can totally do something fun!” Her voice has risen a couple octaves and he has to pull the phone away from his ear. 

“Do you not own a car, Brooke?” He asks, using her full name like she had his.

She huffs. “Yes, I do, Andy, but I don’t know where you live. Which is going to change, very soon. Plus, your truck is way more awesome than my stupid VW bug thing.”

His eyes narrow at the shortened version of his middle used as a first. “Well, Penny, give me ten minutes…”

“Five…”

He looks down at his boxers, and then does a once over of his messy room, trying to remember what clothes were clean and which ones weren’t. He grunts in agreement. 

“Okay.” He is just about to end the call, when her overly sweet voice stops him.   
“Don’t ever call me Penny again.”

“Okay. My bad, Penny…”

The last thing he hears is a high-pitched shriek of annoyance, before he hit’s the end button on his blackberry. He easily finds her house again, and she is already waiting outside, her porch light shining on her. She skips over to the vehicle, and he is so caught up in watching her that he doesn’t have time to go around and assist her in getting into the vehicle, but he pulls her in from his place in the driver’s seat. 

She is all dimples, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. Her face ceases to be covered by any make-up, therefore her freckles are viewable to his studying eyes. She appears subconscious under his intense gaze, and begins to fidget with her hair. 

“I know, me, Brooke Davis, Miss Queen Bee, Head cheerleader, actually owns a pair of crocs. The ugliest shoes known to man, but hey, they are also the most comfortable shoes known to man, and the best beach shoes ever made. Which brings me to the reason for this whole thing, we are going to the beach, so you get to see me in my bikini!”

He smiles at her babble, something he has come to realize she does when she’s nervous, excited, passionate, just about in every mood. He shrugs, the topic of her rant finally setting in. 

“I have a pair of loafers.”

The statement is simple, and he begins to drive again, but when she reaches over and takes one of his hands off the steering wheel, he realizes how much it must of meant. He looks over at her, and finds her looking out the window. The sound of a car horn has her head whipping around, her eyes widening, and her grip tightening painfully on his. He puts pressure on the brake, and stops, letting out the breath he had been holding when the car swerves around him. 

She looks at him, incredulous. “You…Julian. You were just on the wrong side of the street. We could have died!” Then she laughs, and he smiles. 

He shrugs, which he seems to do a lot in her presence. “I just, I was looking at you.” 

She looks over him, her eyebrow kinked. “Why?” And he can tell she really doesn’t know the reason. 

He looks away from her quickly, remembering the recent incident. He starts to shrug but stops before he can complete the action. “You’re beautiful.”

She is silent, completely and utterly so. Which is very strange for her. Her eyes are fixated on the scenery passing by, her bottom lip between her teeth. “It’s cute when you shrug. Don’t stop.”

His first response is to be embarrassed that she noticed, but then he is flattered, because she did notice, and such an easily overlooked thing attracts her. He squeezes their still joined hands, and he hears her sigh in contentment. 

They reach the beach, and he turns to pull into the deserted parking lot, but she stops him very effectively when she releases his hand, bounces in the seat, shakes her head, points to the left, and yells, “no, that way. I have my own spot.” 

He isn’t sure what could possibly be different about the area they are driving to, than the one they just left. A beach is a beach. It’s sand and water. But, she is smiling and practically bouncing in her seat. That’s all the reason he needs. There is a difference, though. There isn’t a parking lot. Therefore, they have to park a block away. 

Without his consent, or his say, it seems as though it has been decided that he will be carrying Brooke to their destination when she jumps on his back. She is not a heavy girl, by no means, but when taken by surprise, and the heels of her small feet dig into his lower abs, with the combination of her tight grip on his neck, he can’t breath. 

But, the problem is easily fixed, when he helps support her, each of his hands grasping onto one of her thighs. Then, without a word to her, he begins to run, and she lets a scream of surprise, soon followed by a laugh. 

She yells out directions every minute, apparently, this spot is in a specific place. But when she yells for him to stop, and he plops down, dropping her effectively onto her butt, he immediately realizes its significance. There’s a large rock located perfectly so you can jump into the water, or just watch as the sun sets. As he studies it closer, he notices N.S. & B.D. forever engraved into the stone. His first thought is how it must have taken a lot of time and dedication to have done it, and then he realizes who the initials belong to. 

It only makes him even more curious about her past with Nathan. If they, which it appears they had been, a couple, then how did the ‘evil Scott brother’ end up with Brooke’s best friend? He wants to ask her, but he has a feeling it’s too soon. He wonders if there will ever be a time she will feel comfortable around him enough to open up to him that much. Trust him that much. 

He goes around the rock formation, but finds no sign of Peyton’s initials paired with either Nathan’s or Brooke’s. Brooke calls his name, returning his attention to her, not that it ever left her. His breath catches, and he wonders if you need oxygen to live. He hopes not, because he doesn’t think he’s gonna breathe again anytime soon. 

Her hair is loose from its bun, flowing messily down her back. She has discarded her simple t-shirt, leaving herself in nothing but a string bikini top. Some would call him a loser, considering he just saw her in her undergarments mere hours before. But, this time there isn’t any mud, or joking. It’s just her, stripping in front of him. And her moon kissed skin. 

Her shorts start to fall down her lean legs, and he lets out a small groan, because he knows there is no way he is going to survive this. No possible way. She runs into the water, not giving him that much time to study her revealed skin. This leaves him relieved and disappointed. 

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Peyton, after spending a good three hours trying to get a hold of her boyfriend, she becomes worried. She knows for a fact that Nathan isn’t sleeping. At least not if their fall out had effected him as much as it did her. She springs up in bed, images of what he is probably doing in her mind. She knows how he copes. Oh God! 

Just like that she is in her comet and racing to his house. Dan isn’t home, but Deb is. She’s passed out on the couch, obviously just having taken a pretty bad beating from her husband. Peyton winces, but forces herself to push the abused woman to the back of her mind. 

Nathan, her lover, her boyfriend, her disaster, he is what she is focused on. She stands outside his room for a few moments, unsure of what to do. She doesn’t hear his snoring, or any moaning. Nathan has cheated on her in the past, but she has done the same to him. They are like a demented version of Romeo and Juliet, because it was evidential for them to both die in the end, for each other. 

The worst kind of deaths. The type where you give yourself over to something or someone so much that at the end of it you don’t know who you are anymore. You look around, and in the middle of the catastrophe that had stolen the entirety of your soul had also taken everybody else who had ever meant anything to you. But, Nathan is worth it, and so much more. 

Therefore, when she sees him laying lifelessly in his king-sized bed, vomit staining his shirt, she panics. She rushes over to him, her hands going to his face, wiping away some of the still wet vomit. She doesn’t shake him, instead she whispers his name, desperately, brokenly. 

She searches for her cell-phone, only to discover that she left it at home. She is near hysteria, as she searches his large room for his cell. She lets out a scream, grabbing at her un-brushed, wild curls. The same thought is repeating in her head, like a mantra ‘you failed him, Peyton. Just like you failed your mom.‘ Even though she really doesn’t want to leave him, she knows she has to get him help. So, she goes to the living room and uses the land line to call an ambulance. 

She shakes her head, and if Nathan was conscious, he would call her crazy for her frantic movements. He would pull her into his arms, whisper something dirty in her ear, she would push him away pretending to be mad, he would respond with that stupid ass cocky Scott smirk, and then it would all end in laughs and kisses. 

The sounds of sirens cut through the silence, and she runs outside. For once she doesn’t care if strangers see her crying. There are so many paramedics. So many disapproving looks at another alcohol poisoned teenager. Peyton wants to punch them all. Deb is seen, and another ambulance is sent for her. 

They start bombarding her with questions about the older woman. 

“Fuck off! I don’t fucking know! Let me see my boyfriend!”

The middle-aged man who is questioning her smiles softly at her. “I’m sorry mam, but you can’t come with us.”

She wants to respond with anger, she hates being this pathetic, lovesick girl. But, she deflates. “Have you ever been in love?” 

His eyes change from their cold, professional stare to one of compassion. He nods, and simply stands aside. It’s a wordless approval for her to climb into the back of the vehicle, which she doesn’t hesitate to do. 

She holds tightly to Nathan’s hand. It’s cold and lifeless in hers. The EMT looks at her, and their eyes connect for a short moment, before the female begins busying herself with starting an IV. 

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“Jabby! Come in, I’m lonely,” Brooke says, for the fifth time, only worded differently. 

He smiles, and shakes his head. “Alright, but if I get bit by anything, you’re paying for the hospital bill.” 

Brooke’s phone rings, saving him from having to strip down to his boxers. She wades through the water, and fetches her phone from her pile of clothes. 

“Hey, P. Sawyer, you totally just killed my mojo. I was just about to have a hot, wet guy…” Brooke’s smiling face becomes ashen, and her knees buckle. Julian rushes to catch her. Her nails dig into his lower arms, and he winces from the pressure. 

There isn’t any goodbyes exchanges, just Brooke hurriedly gathering her clothes with shaking hands. 

“I…Natey is in the hospital.” She freezes at her own words. 

There’s the nickname again. 

“He…um drank too much. He might not make it.”

Suddenly his hospital joke isn’t so funny anymore. 

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Peyton is pacing the private waiting room-thanks to Scott name-when Brooke comes running in, and right into her arms. The brunette is soaked, and she can’t tell what droplets are coming from her wet hair and which are tears. They separate just enough to look at each other, and the shorter girl wipes away the blonde’s tears, and its way too obvious that there was a Nathan and Brooke way before she had entered the picture. Before she even knew either of them existed. 

A guy, who she assumes is Julian, appears in the doorway not long after Brooke. His eyes don’t leave her best friend once. And, she can tell that Brooke wants to go to his side, so she offers her friend a smile, and pushes the brunette towards him. 

Peyton takes a seat, and of course Brooke sits beside her, Julian sitting on the other side of her. Brooke, as always is her strength, and now it seems as though her dear friend finally has someone to lean on. 

After, what seems like hours, but in reality as only been forty minutes, a doctor comes into the little room. He looks rugged and tired. 

“Nathan is…he’s holding on. But, he needs a blood transfusion..”

“Then fucking give him one!” Peyton’s outburst interrupts him before he can finish.

The grey haired man remains patient, clears his throat, and continues, “but, he has type B- blood, which is very rare. Unfortunately, we don’t have that in stock here. When alcohol is overly consumed… ”

Peyton sneers. “I know how alcohol poisoning works. Stock? Stock! This isn’t a damn store! This is a hospital…ya know where you save lives. So, go in there and save his life!”

“I’m sorry Mrs. Scott, but we don’t have the supplies we need, and there’s no time to transfer him to another hospital.”

“So, basically, you’re saying he’s gonna die,” Brooke interjects. Her voice is sad, but eerily even, accepting of the situation. 

Peyton jumps from her seat, and pushes the doctor, unexpectedly. The older man stumbles, but accepts her tiny, barely painful punches. Warm arms encompass her, and she fights the hold they have on her. 

“SShh, Peyton. I know it sucks, and it’s not going to be okay. At least not anytime soon. But, Brooke is here, and now I am here. Okay. Just breathe?” And she knows the voice belongs to Julian. 

She relaxes and turns in his arms. “Lucas…” The name is breathless. “Lucas is Nathan’s brother. They might have the same blood type.”

Peyton looks at Julian, then they both turn to Brooke. Everything is about to get very complicated.

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It’s early, the sun barely revealing itself with shades of orange and red. This is Lucas’ favorite time to run. It’s quiet and peaceful. Free of any high school drama. Any half-brothers or asshole fathers. His Ipod is set on the highest volume, and Counting Crows is blaring in his ears. However, no matter how loud the music is, he can still feel the insistent vibration of his cell phone resting in the pocket of his gym shorts. 

This is the third time the person has called, so it must be important. Unless, of course it’s Haley to talk about Julian, or Julian to talk about Brooke. But, just incase he decides to answer this time. Julian’s name flashes on the screen, and he groans. 

“Yes, Baker,” he answers, rudely. 

The response he gets is the last he ever imagined. 

“Nathan is in the hospital, and he needs a transfusion. I know he’s not your favorite person, but he’ll die without it. And…”

“Julian…chill. I’ll come as soon as I can. But, you know that it’s a shot in a dark that I’m his blood type, right?” 

He hears a sharp intake of breath. “I know, but you have to be. Because, it would hurt Brooke too much to lose him.”

There isn’t any jealousy in his tone, just desperation, and Lucas curses himself for having jogged farther than he normally did. 

“Alright, I’ll be there, bud. It’s you, me, and Hales against the world, remember? And if that means death then so be it.”

JLJLJJLJLJLJLJLJLJLJLJLJLJLJLJLJLJL

Brooke looks up at the sound of numerous voices. Not only Lucas has showed up. Haley and youngish adults are there. She doesn’t ask where Lucas is, because she wants to assume he is in the back having his blood tested. 

The two adults take a seat, but for reason Haley remains standing and fidgets. Brooke looks around, noticing that there aren’t any seats left. Not really thinking much of it, the former cheerleader stands, and tugs Julian up with her. She pushes him into her vacated seat, next to Peyton, and plops down in his lap. 

She smiles, as best as she can considering the situation. “There ya go, Haley.” 

The other girl glares in response, and the urge to cry intensifies, which seemed impossible five minutes ago. Julian’s hands grasp her hips, and his nose snuggles into her hair. She relaxes against him, and lets out a sigh. She feels the eyes of the two adults on them, who are sitting parallel to them. 

“You must be Brooke,” The woman with brown hair speaks. 

Brooke eyes open, and she sits up in her new friend’s lap. “Umm, yeah.”

The young/old woman smiles. “I’m Karen. You are prettier than Julian described you.” She lets out a short laugh. “He’s talked about you constantly for years.”

Brooke feels Julian tense beneath her, and rubs one of the arms wrapped around her to sooth him. 

“Really?” She asks, blushing. She feels ashamed the moment a legitimate, wide smile stretches across her face. 

“Yeah, I just wish we could have met under better circumstances.”

Karen turns to Peyton, looking like she wants to say something, but doesn’t. A doctor enters the room, a different one from before. Brooke almost laughs at the thought that maybe the previous was afraid of P. Sawyer. 

“Lucas is a match.”

Before he can continue, Peyton is out of her seat, and hugging the doctor, tears streaming down her face. Brooke is surprised by her friend’s outburst of emotion. It isn’t like the blonde to be so open, especially when it comes to Nathan. 

The doctor is a female this time and awkwardly returns the hug. 

“The transfusion is in progress now. You guys can go see both boys in pairs in a few hours. Lucas will have to stay overnight.”

“Is he okay?” Haley asked, sending a dirty look in Peyton’s direction, as if it was her fault if he wasn’t. 

“Yes, it’s just a precaution. Mostly done because of protocol.”  
Brooke and Peyton’s eyes meet, and they share a private moment. One that reassures the blonde that despite this incident Brooke still trusts Peyton to take of her boy. 

When it comes time to visit the Scott brothers, they all agree Peyton and Karen should be the first ones, since the boys share a room. 

Brooke looks down at Julian after they are informed of the news that the brothers are roommates. “How do you think they’ll cope with that?”

Julian shrugs, and she smiles at his habit. “It’ll be a disaster, definitely. But, at least they can’t harm each other, physically, too bad, considering Nathan is bed bound. And Lucas would never take advantage of that.”

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Peyton rushes over to Nathan’s bedside, pushing sweat soaked hair off of his damp forehead. He looks up at her with blue eyes. He looks so sad, so broken. 

“God, Nathan. Don’t ever do that again. If you weren’t already in here, I would put you in here.” Her loving tone contradicts the threat. 

He smiles, and lifts his heavy hand towards her face. Noticing his struggle, she takes it in hers and presses a kiss to it. 

“Nathan Royal Scott, I love you, so much.”

“Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer, you drive me to insanity, but I love you too.” His voice is hoarse. “But, right now I think I might love water more.”

“Ya know, after that I might just let you die of thirst.” 

They return to the natural routine of playful banter, but she knows they will never be the same. Because, he had done this, because of her. Because of his feelings for her. They were so strong he had almost killed himself. And that scares the shit out of her. 

She grabs the cup of water from the table beside his bed, and, of course, he refuses her help, and struggles to drink it himself. Despite it obviously being difficult, he succeeds in getting a decent amount, and hands it back to her. 

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Despite sharing a room, Karen and Lucas can’t make out the conversation happening on the other side of the curtain. And they don’t try, because it is more than likely intimate. Or at least Karen doesn’t try. 

“You still have a thing for her, huh?” 

Lucas looks up at her, his blue eyes wide and innocent. He sighs. “Yeah, I guess. She deserves better.”

Karen places her hand over her son’s and gives it a loving squeeze. “She seems to love him. Very deeply.”

Blue eyes narrow. Dan’s eyes. Except not Dan’s. Lucas’. 

“Maybe so, but he doesn’t love her.”

Karen sighs. “How do you know, Lucas?”

He pulls his hand from under hers, and she frowns, hurt by his action. “Are you really taking his side?”

“No, no, I’m not. You’re my son, I love you, and I will always be on your side. But, sometimes you just have to face the truth.” She isn’t sure if she is still talking about Peyton, Nathan, and her son, or Dan, Deb, and her. 

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When Karen and Peyton return to the waiting room, Julian looks over to Haley, silently asking if she will be okay if he goes with Brooke. She nods, but he doesn’t miss the look exchanged between Keith and Haley. He doesn’t quite know the meaning behind it, but its obvious the older man knows something he doesn’t. Something pertaining to Haley, something that upsets her, and he is worried. 

Just as Brooke and him are about to the pass the nurses’ desk, he stops, pulling on their joined hands to get her to do the same. She looks up at him with those eyes, and he almost doesn’t say what he is about to. 

“I, uh, I should go back to Haley. She seemed upset about something, and I’m not sure what it is, and that…”

“Bothers you. I understand. I have best friends too, ya know. My Nathan is your Haley. Peyton is my Lucas.”

He nods. “Actually, I think it’s the other way around.” 

“So, you have a complicated past with Lucas?” He can tell she hadn’t meant to voice it. She has basically just admitted to having some sort problematic past with Nathan, but right now isn’t an appropriate time to dig further. 

“Yeah.” He kisses her forehead, then turns and leaves her. 

He makes it as far to the entrance of the waiting room when it occurs to him that Nathan had literally almost died. He could have died tonight. And here he is leaving Brooke to go check on Haley for what is probably some insignificant issue. Lucas, sure he is being kept in the hospital for twenty-fours, but he is going to be okay. He didn’t have a near death experience. Didn’t go on a drinking binge because he was hurting beyond comprehension. 

Swiftly, he turns on his heel, and all but runs towards the Scott room, only to find that Brooke is still where he left her. Her hands are covering her face, and her shoulders are shaking. He doesn’t waste a second in pulling her into his arms. She doesn’t protest, she just collapses against him, mumbling about how she eventually, always loses everybody. 

Slowly, he guides her towards where she wants, needs to be, and turns into the room when they reach it. Lucas, who is in bed number one, looks at them curiously, and Julian just sends him a ‘back off’ look. 

“Natey is awake,” Julian whispers in ear, and without giving Julian a second look, she rushes over to the hospital bed and into her friend’s arms. 

“Natey.” The name is breathless and devastated. 

“Brookie.” The reply is identical.

The basketball players blue eyes land on Julian, and they are broken, vulnerable. 

“Thanks, for beating the shit out of me yesterday. I deserved it.”

Julian can tell Nathan is prepared for a verbal assault, but he’s not going to receive one, not right now, not from Julian. 

“It’s okay. Everyone makes mistakes. It’s obvious you love Brooke.”

Brooke looks up from where she buried her nose in her friend’s neck. “Julian, pull back the curtain.”

Julian wants to protest, but doesn’t. Because, damn those eyes, he just can’t seem to say no to them. So, he does, and for the first time in probably years, the Scott brothers are within a few feet of each other and not in some sort stand off. 

Brooke climbs off of Nathan and goes over to Lucas. She grabs his hand, and for some reason, Julian is jealous. 

“Thanks for what you did. I can’t even begin to describe how much it means…”

“Go out with me.” It’s abrupt, no questioning tone at all, and cuts her off mid-sentence. 

Nathan pipes in, literally a second later. “I understand you saved my life, but if you’re expecting sex from Brooke…”

Lucas shakes his head. “No, I just want to take her out, on an honest date.”

Nathan looks over at Julian, and he seems to know what he is thinking, because his look is sympathetic. 

“I…um…” Brooke turns towards him, and Julian urges himself to say something, anything, but he doesn’t, of course. 

“I guess. Why not?” She says, releasing his hand, and heading over to Julian’s side where she snuggles. 

Julian feels privileged and satisfied when Lucas sends a glare his way. 

“So, Lucas, dude, since you finally realized that Peyton doesn’t want you, you decide to go after your best friend’s girl?” Nathan’s questions causes a tension to settle over the room. 

“Brooke isn’t my girl.” Julian’s response causes Brooke to move away from him, not a lot, just enough for him to notice. 

JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

Around noon, Julian drops Brooke off at her house, and she leaves the truck with a simple wave and nod of the head. But, at the last minute, she places a soft, short kiss on his cheek. 

“Jabby, I am your girl,” she informs him. “Whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with me now.”

He grabs her arm when she’s half-way out of the vehicle. “Then Penny, I’m your guy. No matter what.”

She looks down. “Even if I go on this date with Lucas.”

He nods. “Yeah, even if.”

She smiles and looks up. “Good, because he is really hot.” 

And the mood is ruined. At least for him. 

“Get some sleep, Andy. You’re gonna need it.”

She finishes climbing out of the truck, and waves as he pulls out of her driveway.


	3. Daydreams and I Love Yous

After a long, restless night spent in the hospital, Lucas is finally being released. His mom and uncle are there, as well as his two childhood best friends, though there is a noticeable tension in the room. It can be felt in every glare he receives from Julian, every look Haley sends Julian. And it is only intensified by the low whispers coming from the other side of the curtain, accompanied by the quiet cries of either or both Peyton and Brooke. 

The veins bulging in Julian’s neck and clenched fists are apparent signs of his desire to go sooth Brooke, and the tight grip Haley’s teeth have on her bottom lip makes her jealousy known. However, they are still here, all in the same room, awaiting his discharge, so they can go hang out at the Rivercourt afterwards. Even though Julian is horrible at basketball, and Haley detests the sport. It is their spot, and Mouth and Skills are there waiting for them, along with a few others who the three of them trust enough to call friends, but not family. 

However, not even the Rivercourt is going to be able to repair the damage the dimple-smiled, raven-haired girl has brought upon their tight knit group. If asked, Lucas will be the first to admit that he has watched Peyton religiously for years, way before the blonde-haired woman had any connection to Brooke. Nevertheless, Lucas has always had a fascination with things he cannot have. In addition, right now his best friend’s crush has his interest piqued with the possibility that Julian’s feelings might be requited. 

However, Nathan’s little reminder that Peyton has absolutely no interest in him just fed his obsession with her. All three girls in his life, at least the ones who are currently playing major roles, all seem to belong to someone else. Even though it has only been three days, Julian and Brooke seem to have a wordless claim on each other. Nathan and Peyton, on the hand, are very public about their ownership. Then there is Nathan and Brooke. They have this vibe…one that Lucas cannot identify, and as a writer that frustrates him, because he cannot put in it into words. 

Haley, well, she belongs to Julian, even if he is clueless to the fact. And, of course, Lucas wants his best friend to be happy, so that is another reason why Brooke has to be his, and not Julian’s. Julian belongs to Haley. The pair of cheerleader best friends belong to him. Nathan needs to go on another drinking binge, and not be found. 

He is dressed now, has been for quite awhile, but everyone is waiting to say goodbye to a certain someone on the other side of the curtain, so when it is pulled aside, there are a variety of emotional reactions. But, there is no denying that Brooke’s eyes land on Julian first, and the love sick grin on both of their faces, as they embrace. 

She is swept into his arms, her feet lifted off the ground, her eyes closing and her nostrils flaring as she takes in his scent. Lucas’ muscles tighten at the reaction his friend entices from the brunette. Then, she is heading over to him, her eyes bloodshot from all the tears she must have cried throughout the night. Funny, those eyes had been clear and bright when she looked at Julian measly minutes before. 

He does not focus on that, instead he takes in the swing of her hips, and the slow movement of her feet, which are covered with a pair of rainbow crocs. 

“Lucas.” She says his name, and he snaps his eyes up to hers, and she smiles, but her dimples cannot be seen. 

“I…um…I don’t think…that date is such a good idea. Ya know everything was just in chaos, and I had almost lost my best friend, and you saved his life, even though you hated him and have practically been humping his girlfriend’s aka my other best friend’s legs for years. And…I, just…I thought…Lucas has to be an amazing guy…but going out with you out of gratitude wouldn’t be fair to you or me. So I’m sorry, but I’m changing my answer to No.”

He nods, though disappointed; he accepts her answer, for now. He is rewarded with a dimpled smile a short kiss on the kiss on the cheek. He closes his eyes at the feel of her lips, but his eyes snap open when he can no longer feel her presence beside him. She is, once again, beside his best friend, wound up in his arms, except this time her lips are pressed to his cheek, dangerously close to his lips. 

Lucas clears his throat, bringing the couple back to reality. “We should get going, the Rivercourt has been neglected lately,” he jokes. 

Julian smiles down at Brooke. “Yeah, but for good reason.” 

Haley rolls her eyes, and tugs on the lovesick boy’s arm. “Come on, Jules.” 

Brooke waves, sending one last wink at her ‘friend’. Julian says goodbye to Nathan and Peyton. Lucas makes sure to do the same to Peyton, but ignores Nathan. 

JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

Once alone, the three best friends all lounge around the now more relaxed atmosphere of the hospital room. Nathan’s bed is in an inclined position, and Peyton is sitting beside him, barely touching, but there is definite cuddle action going on. 

Brooke is perched on the edge of the bed, a straw in-between her lips as she drinks the Mt. Dew Julian had bought her. Something outside has her interest until her blonde best friend kicks not so gently in the thigh. The brunette glares at her friend, but the dirty look quickly diminishes into a smile. 

“So, you and Julian…” Peyton leaves it open ended. 

“Me and Julian…” Brooke repeats.

Peyton raises her eyebrows. “Brooke…”

Letting out an exaggerated sigh, Brooke rolls her eyes. “Alright, so I kinda might like him just a bitty bit.”

“Just a little? Brooke, you do realize you just cancelled a date with Lucas Scott, right. The newest Ravens basketball player…the guy that all the girls are after now…”

“Actually no I don’t know…but yeah I did cancel it…”

“And you know why you don’t know?” 

Brooke sits there, waiting for Peyton to continue. However, it becomes apparent that she wants an answer to her question. 

“Enlighten me.”

“Because you are clueless to any other guy but Julian, have been for the past three days.”

Brooke rolls her eyes, looks to Nathan for help, and receives nothing but a shrug. 

“I…I’ve been busy,” she defends herself, without success. 

“What exactly do you mean by ‘the guy that all the girls are after’?” Nathan pipes in, his voice suspicious. 

“All the girls except for the hottest ones in Tree Hill, of course,” Brooke sings songs, referring to her and Peyton. 

Nathan and Peyton share a look, one that Brooke has seen many times before. They are about to get it on, no matter if there’s company or who that company may or may not be. Brooke smiles when her blonde friend smirks right before Nathan captures her lips, effectively cutting off any protests she might have had. 

Brooke begins to leave, as inconspicuously as possible. However, she has never been that good at going unnoticed. Therefore, the couple separate, and Peyton insists she stay, and though Nathan looks frustrated, he agrees. 

Brooke shakes her head, with a smile. “No, you two love birds, just get back to your little ‘thing’. You guys deserve some time alone.”

The bouncy brunette is out the door before another word can be spoken, and the ‘IT’ couple share a laugh. Then Peyton punches Nathan in the shoulder, hard. Really hard, and he winces, rubbing the spot she hit. 

“What the fuck, Sawyer!” He curses. “You’re fucking crazy!”

“I’m crazy? You’re the one who basically committed suicide!” 

“Um, Blondie, in order to commit suicide, I’m pretty sure you have to be successful.” 

Her beautiful green eyes are narrow and sparkling with life, love, anger, and so many other emotions. All caused by him. He cups her cheek, and her face softens, for a moment, but she is quickly slapping him away. 

“Nathan, you are not going to seduce me! Sex is not going to fix this!”

He smirks. “All it takes is me touching your face, and you’re horny?”

“Nathan…”

“Because that’s just fine…one touch from you is all it takes to make me…”

“Nathan Royal Scott, finish that sentence and you will never get hard again.”

“You finished it for me, Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer,” he says, with a laugh. “Ya know…’hard’…okay, not funny to you.” He sighs.

Her shoulders tense, then thrust forward, a loud sob leaving her. “You could have died, because of me.”

His arms wrap around her, to, ironically, protect her from himself. Because that’s all he’s wanted to do since the first time he kissed her on the top of the stairs, in his father’s beach house, during the first party of the summer before their Sophomore year. It was supposed to be a onetime thing, a normal one nighter, but as soon as their lips separated, he refused her invitation to continue somewhere more private. 

Because as soon as those green eyes, darkened with lust, looked into his, he knew he was a goner, and that he wanted something more with her. And that if he were to fuck her, he would also be fucking himself, his heart. Then, stupid Brooke, had to go and befriend her, and the stupid blond cheerleader was always there, all the fucking time. 

But, she did not throw herself at him like all the other girls, did not even so much as glance his way when in the same room as him. It went like that for about a month. Then one night, during another party, in the exact spot, he kissed her again. She was pissed, extremely. Her eyes, they gave her away though, giving away her desire for him. So, he made this ridiculous speech. 

“I want you. So bad. Have since that night…however long ago. Shockingly, I don’t just want to fuck you, I want to be with you. I’ll hurt you more than I’ll make you smile. There are plenty of other girls in here with bigger boobs, better asses, thicker thighs, but god; you won’t leave my fucking head. You’re a…bitch. And I hate you. And I will tell you that everyday; don’t expect me to ever tell you….the opposite. I’m not capable of that feeling.”

Her eyes narrow, dangerously, and he feels himself stiffen. He wants nothing more than to pull her to him and kiss her, he cannot remember ever wanting anything more. Her long, artistic fingers trail over his cheek, outlining the bone. He has seen her draw, and her dreams are easily depicted in her art. They are just another reminder of what he cannot give her. However, that does not stop him from grabbing her wrist, and pulling her flush against him. 

Their lips meet with a fervor that only the other can match. However, he forces that thought out of his mind, because she cannot possibly be the only one. They stumble backwards, both of them nowhere near sober. Somehow, they stumble into an empty bedroom, and he nearly falls, but manages to stop himself, not wanting to crush her with his dead weight. This thought suddenly turns into one of him worrying about her walking backwards, and that terrifies the shit out of him, so to punish himself for it and her for bringing it forth, he turns them around and crashes her back against the door, closing it. 

Her tiny moan of pain only proves to make his pants tighter, though that little voice in the back of mind gets louder. Her long, lean legs wrap around his waist, her black converses digging into his back. It is a great contrast to the normal feeling of heels, but it is a welcome change. However, he is not sure he likes. One he wants to keep. Needs to keep. 

She begins to rotate her hips, and he bites back a groan, hands gripping her hips to assist her in the movements of her pelvis. He wants so badly to keep his own hips still, to not let her know how much she really effects him. But, when he cups one of her still clothed breasts, squeezing gently, then harder when being gentle fails to get a response, and she arches into him, her hips thrusting roughly into his, he grunts. 

Now, both hands are gripping her pelvis, and he is practically fucking her with clothes on. This only lasts a few moments, but it leaves her speechless, and he wonders if she is going to be able to keep up with greedy passion she brings out in him. Then, her fingers are tangling in his dark hair and their tongues are dancing. He fumbles with the bottom of black, nirvana t-shirt, and finds that is impossible to remove when they are so close. Separating is not an acceptable option, so with their lips still attached; he rips it, right down the middle. 

“I happened to like that shirt,” she croaks, and all he can focus on is that her lips are there, they exist, but they are not touching his. They are not doing their job. 

“Fuck it.” She seems to agree, eagerly responding to the newly started kiss, reaching behind her to unclasp her bra. Then his hands are everywhere, exploring, never staying in one place too long. 

He captures a nipple in his mouth, flicking his tongue over the puckered bud, before biting down softly, then harder, drawing blood into his mouth. She squirms against him, his name leaving her in a breathy moan. Her small hands are struggling with his shirt. He ignores her silent pleas for assistant in the removal of his clothes and continues his assault on her body. He makes a trail of kisses along her neck and shoulders. 

He locates her pulse point, the proof that this sinful creature with him is real. He bites down on the sensitive area, and sinks his teeth in further when she pushes his lower body away. 

His mouth leaves her body and for a moment, they just stare at each other. Her small chest is heaving, and her hands are shaking when she reaches between them to undo his jeans. He removes his hands from her butt, allowing her to feet to fall, and places them on the door, one hand is now on either side of her head.

His pants and briefs pool around his feet and he steps out of them. They stand there, daring the other to stop what is about to happen. At the same time, they reach for the button on her jean shorts, eyes not once breaking their gaze. Using the grasp they both have on the hem of her shorts, he pulls her to him.   
“Last chance.” 

She shakes her head. “No. Everything you said, earlier. I’m worse. Trust me.”

“Doubt it.” 

Before the conversation can continue, she has him in her hand, stroking him deliciously so. In that moment, he knows he is addicted to her, and that no one has ever and will ever be able to touch him as she can. Her shorts are on the carpet followed by her panties, her doing. 

As if their minds are linked, they grab each other in unison, coming back together in frenzy. They fall down onto the bed, him on top of her. 

“I hate your hair,” he insults. 

“You have Dan’s eyes,” she bites back, and he tenses, driving himself into with such speed, he swears he must be tearing her in half. However, never, in a million tears, did he ever think he would literally tear her. However, he does, he did. He took it. Like this. In a horrible, disgusting way. 

Goddamnit! He had told her that he would only hurt her. He knew, he should have stopped it. She is laying there, under him, eyes clamped shut, tears clinging to her eyelashes. 

He does something completely uncharacteristic; he pulls out of her, and rolls them over. Pulling the blanket up over them, he tugs her against his side. 

“Nirvana isn’t that bad…” It is a lame attempt to fix what he just broke, but it makes her laugh. He clears his throat. “Look, uh, Brooke is having this party, and, well. Fuck! Do you wanna go with me, as my date?”

She tenses in his arms. “You don’t have to act different with me, just because this was…”

“Your first time?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m acting differently with you, because I’ve never been in this situation. I have popped a few cherries, but never someone’s who I actually liked.”

She looks at him, and nods her acceptance. That was it. Nathan Scott officially has a girlfriend. He just is not sure his girlfriend knows that yet. 

“Peyton, I survived, because of you,” he assures her. “You’re the only reason I’m still alive. And I’m not just talking about the other night.”

She knows there is a lot more that he wants to say, but those simple words are all she needs to understand everything. In addition, if that is all he can give her right now, that is fine. 

“I love you, Nathan Scott.”

“I love you, too Peyton Sawyer.”

NPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNPNP

Julian watches, or more like daydreams, from the picnic table, as Lucas attempts to teach Haley how to shoot a basketball. The laugh of his daydream somehow has made it into his reality, and so has the main character. 

She is running towards him, freshly showered, dressed in extremely short jean shorts, and a tight red tank top, that reveals her mid-drift. She runs and jumps onto the table beside him, nearly pushing him and Mouth off it, as the momentum of her jump/sitting had causing her to slide across the piece of small wooden furniture. 

Much to his dislike, she ignores him, though she has to lean over him to order to shake his friend’s hand.

“Hi, I’m Brooke Davis, Jabby’s unofficial girl thingy,” she says with a cheeky smile. 

His friend is even more inexperienced when it comes to girls, which is possible. But, the lanky boy does have a certain charm to him, one that Brooke seems to notice. 

“I’m Mouth.”

Brooke, being Brooke, climbs onto Julian’s lap, without asking, not that he really cares, to be closer to her new friend. Because to Brooke, everyone is her friend. 

“Is Mouth your real name? No offense or anything, but that’s a really weird name, but my middle name is Penelope,” her voice lowers as she says the last word, “but don’t tell anyone. I trust you though. You seem sweet.”

“My real name is Marvin…I just have a big mouth,” he explains.

She laughs, and touches his arm. “Oh yeah, me too! I talk a lot, so I apologize in advance for anything I might say to offend you.” She shrugs. 

And it looks so innocent that Julian almost believes it. He chuckles, earning himself a smack from his lap’s occupant. Her attention averts over to the basketball duo. 

“So Broody Basketball Robot is teaching Tutor Girl to play?”

“Yeah,” Julian answers, with ease. 

But, Mouth looks confused. “Broody what? And Tutor Girl?” 

“Lucas is teaching Haley to play basketball,” Julian translates Brooke for him. 

“Ya know, Natey would love it here, but don’t worry I know this is Lucas’ spot and I respect that.”

Julian just prays she does not look at him, that way, or in anyway, because he knows he will say yes, even if she does not ask, and respects Lucas’ space. Because there had been a tiny bit of wistfulness in her voice. That is negative, Brooke and negative are bad. Julian hates bad when it comes to his Bumblebee.

Brooke’s phone goes off, and she accepts the text message. She makes it a point to hide the screen from Mouth, but does not seem to care if Julian reads it, so he does. Of course. Who wouldn’t?

The first thing he notices is the undeniable masculine name. Clay. 

From: Clay

Omg. Im sry I shud hv ben there. I bot tickets be there in morning don’t wait up. 

Sent: 6:47 Aug 23  
Received: 6:47 Aug 23

He wants to ask what the message is about, but does not. She tells him anyways. 

“That was Clay, my sorta, not really brother. I told him what happened with Nathan, and he is coming down for a week or so to check in on him. And I guess he is bringing his girlfriend, though he insists they are just friends…but he lies about shit like that.”

She squirms, bouncing in his lap and he winces at the impact. He grabs hold of her hips, stilling her. 

“Brooke, you are inflicting pain on a very sensitive part of my body.”

She blushes, hiding it behind a curtain of hair right away. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to,” she mumbles. 

Sometimes he wonders what her sexual history really is. It certainly cannot be like everyone says it is. She blushes excessively much for it to be. She would probably be shocked at what kind of thoughts her tiny outfits cause. 

Finally, she replies to the text. 

To: Clay  
NP. Evrythng is under cntrl 4 the most part u no same old same ole shit happenin itll b gud 2 cya u tho. Nite clay. Luv u. 

Sent: 7:00 Aug 23

“Julian, uh, can I spend the night at your house again tonight?” 

He nods, because he has no other choice. She is impossible to say no to. 

“I see you don’t have your truck. So you finally get to ride in my stupid ass car,” she whines, “just like you’ve begging to do.”

“I haven’t been…”

“Jabby, you’ve been begging.”

“Okay, maybe a bit.”

JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

It is not until Haley hears the obnoxious laughter that she realizes Julian is leaving with Brooke. She feels that familiar feeling of jealousy, but one look over at Mouth, it is evident that Brooke has been there for quite a while, and she had not noticed. Had she really been that caught up in the feel of Lucas’ hands on her to not notice her surroundings?


	4. Tattoos and Speedsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brulian: alcohol cuteness, Haley: jealous, Neyton: hospital

Julian very much regrets ever wanting to ride in Brooke’s car. Even though bugs aren't known for being a speedsters, he should have known she was a risk taker and would make it one. When he says this, she scoffs. 

“Jabby, who says speedster, really?” But her voice is playful, as she removes a hand from the wheel and pokes him in the side. And for the first time he wishes her touch away, because he would really like her tiny hand to be on the wheel instead. 

Then, she does a u-turn, the abused tires protesting as gravel spins under the pressure on the county road. He squeals, and knows he sounds like a scared little girl, frankly, he doesn’t care. Because their lives are much more important. But, she doesn’t seem the least bit concerned, a dimple smiled firmly planted on her face. 

“I know exactly where we should go,” she says, an awe sound to her voice, as if something just dawned on her. 

“I thought we were going to my house,” he says, his voice almost pleading. Alright, it WAS pleading. He just knows this place, whatever it is, is going to be trouble. 

She rolls her eyes, he knows she does. “Come on, loosen up Jabby. I promise I’m not gonna get us killed,” she swerves the car a bit, with a giggle, “maybe a little damaged, but not killed.” 

“Penny, you’re evil, ya know that?” He answers, his heart beating erratically in his chest. 

“So, I’ve been told.” 

The ride after that is calm and uneventful, and while he is grateful for that, he knows Brooke is going to find a way to make up for that later. She takes a sharp turn into a large field, and if he doesn’t know any better he would think this is the part where she kills him. But, this is Brooke Davis so…and her door opens and there is blaring music. Yep, definitely trouble. 

Her door closes and he remains enclosed in the safety of the vehicle, until the slight chill of autumn intrudes when Brooke flings the door open.

She is bent down, looking at him expectantly, her hand outstretched. He studies the goose bumped covered flesh of her arm. She is cold. It had been warmer when she had chosen her outfit. The knowledge of her possible discomfort is what drives him to enter the unknown territory of the other half of the teenage world. 

He pulls the ‘Scott Body Shop’ hoodie over his head, and silently offers it to her. She looks at it for a moment. It had never occurred to him that she might reject his offer. 

But, she grabs it with a small non-dimpled, yet genuine smile. She pulls it over her head, ruffling her immaculate curls. Taking hold of his hand, she leads him to where she wants and it takes him back to the first time he ever hung out with her. 

They step into the glow of a camp light, and there is a blush tinting her cheeks. Julian can’t stop himself from touching the heated skin. Brooke’s downcast eyes snap up to his, and he is very aware that they are among a crowd of other teenagers, possibly a few college students. Right now he doesn’t care. 

“You’re blushing,” his voice is smooth, and even he can hear the seductive gleam in it. Or maybe he sounds creepy. 

It might be his imagination, but she steps closer to him, and he curses himself for letting her borrow his hoodie. Because, right now if it wasn’t for it, they would be chest to chest, tank top to t-shirt, cotton to cotton. 

Suddenly, someone screams, drunkenly, “whore!” effectively breaking the spell, and getting Brooke’s attention. The raven haired girl seems annoyed but delighted at the sound of the word, but Julian doesn’t like it. 

Soon, a red head is flinging her arms around Brooke’s shoulders, leaning all her weight on a surprised Brooke. “Woah, Rach, you are wasted already.”

A tiny giggle is accompanied with a shake of the head. “Nope, just a bit tipsy.”

Brooke shakes her head, and shifts her feet in order to support her friend’s weight better. Julian moves to help her, but she shakes her head. “Rachel, sweetie, what am I going to do with you?” 

The fiery haired girl becomes offended, and she pushes herself out of Brooke’s arms, stumbling away from them. “Like you fucking care, Miss Perfect Davis. The only reason you ever noticed me this summer was cuz I was a threat to your little throne, Miss Queen B. No matter what the hell I do, you still won‘t let me touch that spot that is reserved specially for Miss. Tortured, Slit My Wrists, even though she fucked you over just to get laid.” 

“How do you know…?”

Rachel flicks her wrist. “Please, everyone knows about Brathan, and what they should have been,” a mocking laugh leaves the glossed, yet cracked lips of the pretty girl, “I might be a backstabbing slut, but I am loyal to my friends. I would never do that to you.”

“We had just become friends, she didn’t know…” Brooke defends, and Julian stands back, taking in the situation. 

“Bullshit, everyone knew! I know, and I wasn’t even here then. It’s there every time you look at each other. She stole everything from you! Everything that mattered. And like that wasn‘t enough, she had to have…”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! Just shut up! Please. You don’t know her or me. You don’t understand anything that happened back then. And the so called look you‘re talking about, it‘s filled with barely concealed hatred and resentment. Trust me.”

Julian senses that Brooke is on the verge of her breaking point, and moves so her back is against his chest. She is tense at first, but soon relaxes after Rachel stumbles out of their line of sight. 

“Please, don’t ask any questions. I’ll tell you everything, soon. And it’s not anything like she said. It’s…it’s a lot more complicated than that. The three of us…Nathan, Peyton, and I…all made life changing decisions that summer. Mine had the biggest impact, though. It’s what, in the end, determined my future with Nathan. And well, as you know, we’re friends.”

She hasn’t turned in his arms, and he isn’t sure if that’s a good or bad sign. 

“Do you ever regret your choice?” He dreads her answer, and when all he is met with is silence, he regrets asking. 

One of his worst fears was aways being second to some one else, and it seemed like his entire life was spent being just that. Second to Lucas for Haley, a stand for his father at home. 

“Everyday.” Her voice is soft, and full of so much pain it’s beyond comprehension. “But not for the reasons you’re thinking.”

He wants to dig deeper into the subject, to know why her voice sounds so wounded, but she is tugging on his arm before he can say anything. What Julian considers to be quite a large man, not so much as fat, as muscular comes up to them. Even though he will deny it later, he is definitely intimidated.

But, Brooke seems at ease in his presence. In fact, she doesn’t hesitate in giving him a short hug, before returning to Julian’s side and looping her arm through his. 

“Jabby, this is Owen,” Brooke yells over the music, “one of my bestest friends ever! And Owen this is Jabby, but I’m sure he’d rather you call him Julian.” 

Owen’s brown eyes scan him. “So, you’re the son o’ bitch who has occupied our Baby B’s time for the passed few days. Huh?”

Julian struggles to respond, but Brooke laughs “Owen, be nice to my Juju.”

Owen tugs her away from Julian’s side and against his, giving her a tight squeeze. “Always, sugarplum.” 

In response, the petite girl rolls her eyes and pulls herself free from the embrace. Shuffling his feet, Julian fights the urge to fidget with his fingers, shirt, anything that would make him look like a dork. 

“Clay is coming home…” Brooke says, and Owen’s stoic face suddenly breaks out into a grin. 

The petite girl is pulled into a tight embrace, lifted off the ground, and twirled in the air. When she is back on her feet, the bulky guy brushes hair away from her face. 

“With him back, maybe things will start to make sense again.” There is a bit of shame in his voice. “But, why is he coming back?” He asks, sounding suspicious. 

“What makes you think he needs a reason? Maybe he just wanted to see us…”

“Brooke…”

“Okay, fine…Nathan is in the hospital.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Brooke shrugs, that same sadness from before in her eyes. “I didn’t think you’d care.”

Owen nods, his face returning to it’s earlier expression, or lack there of. “You’re right, I don’t.”

Brooke seems to notice something Julian doesn’t, because she cups her friend’s cheek, or at least he hopes Owen is just her friend, and whispers “he’s okay, O.”

A smile replaces the blank look on the older man’s face, and he raises his beer. “Enough serious shit, can I get you two a drink?” 

Julian is about to decline, but Brooke beats him to it and politely says, “yes.” 

He knows before he tastes it that it’s a type of alcohol. Brooke, without hesitation, puts the glass bottle to her lips and takes a big gulp, the smooth skin of her neck convulsing seductively as she swallows. He imagines himself sucking on that flesh, exploring every inch until he finds the spots that make her writhe and moan his name, begging for more. 

Right before the drink leaves her mouth, her tongue swipes around the top to gather any escaped liquid. The dirty thoughts swirling through his head motivate him to take his own long swig. Maybe Julian is just paranoid, but Owen is looking at him as if he knows that he is thinking about every possible way there is to violate Brooke’s body. 

Some girl captures the other man’s attention, in more ways than one, leaving Julian alone with his fantasies and unfortunately Brooke. His beer is half gone by time she is on her second. Then, she is taking the beverage from his hands and leading him over to a more crowded area. 

He spots the make-shift bar, and knows that he should stop there. He could easily stop, and restrain her as well. But, he doesn’t because he is curious to see where this night might lead. Despite the two beers she has downed already, she takes a seat on one of the miss matched stools, gracefully crossing one bare leg over the other. Julian follows close behind, choosing to stand near her, rather than sit. 

A black-haired, brown-eyed boy approaches them, a drink already prepared for Brooke. Wordlessly, without any consent or question of what he may want, the bartender slides him a tall glass and Julian struggles to catch it before it falls off the counter. 

Brooke giggles at the event, and grabs his hand, pulling him down onto one of the stools. She sips leisurely on her drink, in no hurry to finish it, and he repeats her actions. By now his head feels woozy and his vision is a bit clouded, but that doesn’t stop him from joining her on the dance floor. Although, he is pretty sure he had objected at first. Hadn’t he?

But, none of that matters once her hips are in his hands, her behind pressed up against his groin, and her hair teasing his senses with it’s flowery smell. He feels stupid, just standing there like a deer caught in head lights as this beautiful girl grinds against him, laughing and talking about something he can’t quite hear over the loud music. 

Then, she turns around so they are face to face, well not really. He is a good foot taller than her. As always, she finds a solution to their problem, and pulls his ear down level to her mouth. He shivers, involuntarily at the sensation of the delicate, untouched (by him) skin brushing against the lobe of his ear. He is so caught up in the intense way his body responds, that his lust fogged mind almost doesn’t register the reason for the movement of her lips is verbalization. 

“That guy at the bar was Chase. Him and Owen have this dream of owning a bar someday, and this is their way of sorta making it happen before it actually does, ya know?”

Julian forces himself to put a bit more space between them, it’s the only way he’ll be able to give this serious conversation the attention it deserves, give everything she says, whether it be a lame attempt at a joke or confiding him about Nathan, the attention it deserves. Although, it truly is painful to rob himself of the heat of her body, excruciatingly so. 

“That seems like…

Brooke sighs, her shoulders sagging, her hips ceasing in their movements. “Lame?” 

He is quick to shake his head. “No. Brave. Really brave. To have such a big dream, and have the faith to blindly reach for it, like they are. I can‘t imagine how much money they invest in all this alcohol, and I haven‘t seen them charge anyone for a drink tonight. Can they even legally do this?”

Mysteriously, Brooke kinks an eyebrow, giving it away. She was a contradiction. “Of course not.” 

“Bumblebee, what are your dreams?” He asks, and he knows his voice is too serious. He should have stayed with their joking vibe, and he might have been able to get something out of her. 

Instead, she smiles that smile that he has grown to hate. He wants to tell her that he can see through it, but he doesn’t want to scare her. 

“Well,” her tongue runs along her top teeth, before making a clicking sound, a mischievous smile replacing her fake one, “I did have quite a naughty dream the other night. It included you…with a tattoo.”

She takes a step towards him, barely pressing herself against him, just enough for her bare knees to come in contact with his jean covered ones, but its enough for him to know that whatever she has planned, he is already a willing victim. 

“You don’t have any tattoos, do you?” Her voice is sultry, and her breath smells of liquor. He’s always hated the odor, but when associated with her, it’s different. And he has the push to kiss her, to taste the tantalizing smell. 

He shakes his head, his mouth forming a silent “no”

Then, as soon as she turns on the moment, she turns it off by dragging him- she seems to do that a lot- towards wherever the hell they are going. Like a puppy who still isn’t sure how to respond to a leash, he is led by her through a mob of dancing bodies, a few beer pong tables. And he thinks he might have seen a couple having sex…? 

His curious, naïve eyes stop their exploration when he is forced to an abrupt stop. Brooke’s eyes are looking up at him, all bright and hopeful. 

“This here, is Chris,” she introduces, her voice overly casual, “Chris, this is Julian.”

Chris sizes him up, before smirking. “So what can The Keller help ya with? What exactly are you looking for?”

Julian is confused at first, then he spots the tattoo gun, or what he thinks is a tattoo gun in the slim fingers of ’The Keller’ and the tiny jars of ink, he isn’t sure what to say. 

He looks over at Brooke, and of course, she still has ’that’ look. She truly is evil, pure evil. She already knows he is going to say yes. Knew it before she even forced him over here. And now he is going to give her something else she wants…the option to choose what is going to scar his body for eternity. 

“I’m not sure. Do you have anything in mind, Penny?”

The entirety of her face lights up, and she does a little jump, her happy clap joining in. All of this happens in unison, and he wonders how her small body can be so animated without tearing itself apart. 

“I was thinking we could get matching tattoos!”

That definitely peeks his interest, and for the first time this tattoo seems like a good idea. Evidently, his expression is enough to let her know she has his approval, and she lets out a squeal of excitement. 

“I was thinking of the coordinates of the place we hung out for the first time, ya know, our spot. Is that okay.” It isn’t a question, in no way shape or form, despite being worded as one. 

He nods. He doubts that he really has any choice or control over this situation. She retrieves a small, wrinkled piece of paper from her back pocket, a triumphant smile firmly on her face. Smoothing out the paper, she shows it to him, awaiting his opinion. He knows at this point it’ll crush her if he doesn’t like it. He does, but even if he didn’t he would lie. 

It read 35<3 59’19”N 78<3 54’26”W. He just hopes he can replace the hearts with something else, even stars will do. Then she goes on to explain that her hearts will be colored in with brown because he introduced her to mudding, and his will be filled in with blue because she took him to the ocean. Suddenly, the hearts sound like a good idea. 

Despite this new bit of information, the same coordinates are still going to be inked on both of them. And he is fine with that. Because the place she had shown him had another co-owner. The place he had taken her to, belonged to him solely, and now her. 

Chris seems to be growing impatient, his foot starting to tap, and a very loud exhale leaving him. 

“Alright, The Keller doesn’t have all night, where do you guys want these tats and who’s going to be my first victim?”

“Chillax Kells, we still have details to discuss. I think yours should be in my handwriting and mine should be in yours…?” This time her voice is questioning, and he can tell this part of the tattoos is very important to her. 

This moment is too perfect, too much like a movie scene to not reach out and touch her face. So, he does and she smiles. 

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes.” 

Before Chris can verbalize his impatience again, Julian speaks, “I want mine on my arm, as big as possible.” 

Chris rolls his eyes. “Finally, sit your ass down. Bull Dung, rewrite this thing on a fresh piece of paper.” 

Julian does as ordered, and watches as Brooke effortlessly writes out the coordinates, but it isn’t as loopy as he remembers. It’s more like the note she had written him at the top of her number, when she had given it to him. 

“Rewrite it, don’t concentrate so much this time. Just relax, and do it. I, uh, want it to be loopy.” He knows how lame he sounds. 

She peers up at him with a small, secret smile and does as requested. He stares off into space as the stencil is made, and suddenly all the complications that can happen occur to him. The stencil is pressed against his chilled, naked skin, at some point he must have removed his shirt, and the buzz of the gun makes him tense. 

“That is a real gun, right? Not a homemade one?”

Chris seems incredibly annoyed and insulted by the question. “Of course! Next, why don’t you ask if I’m wearing gloves or if I shaved the area first….or if I am licensed.” 

“Are you?”

Chris laughs. “No…only to the last question.”

Before Julian can object, the needle is inserted into his skin, not just once or twice, or even three times but over and over. He winces at first but the small section that is being assaulted eventually becomes numb, and he relaxes. Though the freeze of the autumn night is becoming annoying. It is finished soon enough, and he almost wants to stop Brooke from doing what he just did. He doesn’t want her to have to experience the pain. 

But, selfishly, he wants her branded as his, forever. So, when she tugs his hoodie over her head, messing up her already tangled hair, revealing creamy flesh he certainly doesn’t object when she points to the spot she wants branded. Her chosen place is right above her left breast, and he wonders if the detail that it is right over her heart has a significant meaning. He decides he is probably over thinking it. 

He messily scrawls down the meaningful numbers, cursing his horrid handwriting. He is about to redo it, but Brooke snatches the paper up from under the pen before he can. 

She looks at him as if what he just tried to do was the most terrible thing ever. Even though he knows it’s irrational, he buckles under the pressure of her stare and starts to believe the unspoken accusation. 

“I, um, just wanted to try to make it better,” he defends, lamely, very lamely. 

She laughs and grabs his hand from her sitting position. “Julian, it’s beautiful.”

“But, you can barely read it…”

“Exactly. You, it’s you, your handwriting, unhindered. I don’t want you to try to make it anything else.” 

He looks down at her and her eyes are clear. For the first time since they began this little adventure, he thinks about their earlier alcohol consumption. He is pretty sure that he is mostly sober, but he’s not certain about her. Her eyes seem…rational. If that even makes sense. 

Not that anything really makes sense when he’s with Brooke. She always finds a way to disconnect him from reality. And that will be his excuse later when he is asked about this tattoo. Okay, that was a lie. He will most likely grin like a fool as he explains the true meaning behind it. He already wants to bang his head up against something at the simple image of him, yet again, being not only love-sick but love-pathetic over Brooke Davis. 

Then, he smiles at the image, because he is experiencing this feeling and it is real and its happening and she is a constant in his life. At least for now. She has made him into a basket case. If he is diagnosed as being bi-polar he is sending the doctor bills to her parents. 

He watches as Chris prepares the brown to use later on in the tattoo. The thought of such a bland color on such a vibrant girl doesn’t seem like a good idea anymore. He changes his mind when he sees his penmanship embedded in her skin in bright red ink. 

JBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

Lucas rolls his eyes as Haley paces the small length of his room. 

“He…he just left. He’s gone and not answering his phone. And he’s with her…” 

His blue eyes continue to follow her, unsure of how to handle an irrational Haley. She has always been the sane one in their trio. The voice of reason, the one to keep them grounded. At least for him. And to see her panicking like this, over something so simple, is unsettling. 

He stands from the bed and steps in front of her. Too caught up in her own thoughts and rant to notice him until the last minute, they almost collide. Her eyes snap up to his, wide and teary, his hands holding tightly to her waist. 

“Hales, Halo. Julian, he’s a good guy, but he’s stupid as hell if he can’t recognize how special you are,” he compliments her. 

“You called me Halo,” she whispers, and he is surprised and a bit upset that, that is what she noticed out of what he said. “You haven’t called me that since you became obsessed Peyton Sawyer.”

“I, ugh. I guess not, no.” He really hadn’t noticed, and he feels extremely guilty because of that. 

She is clinging to him now, and her tears are soaking his shirt. 

LHLHLHLHLHLHLHLHLHL

Nathan is sleeping, and Peyton takes advantage of the opportunity to watch him. She is sitting in the uncomfortable recliner beside his bed, but not even the broken spring in the chair can deter her attention away from the young boy. God, she loves him. So much. Too much. 

The room is littered with gifts from their peers. Countless cards are stacked so high on the sink that they threaten to tumble over. Balloons of all kinds are floating around the room. Some are absurd shapes, ones a football, even though it’s a school wide fact that Nathan is a basketball player. Most of them say ’Get Well Soon’. However, a few say things like ’Use her sympathy. Get laid.’

But few of the gifters know the real Nathan Scott. The broken little boy that lays behind the winning shots, best party thrower, sex god. The little boy that he has spent years learning to expertly hide. Even she doesn’t know him completely yet. He has secrets, scars so deep that she isn’t sure he will ever reveal them all to the outside world. But, she plans to stick around for as long as she can, until this love that they have been cursed with no longer has any foundation. Not that it really has one now. 

A line from some song that Brooke had made her listen to a few days ago pops into her mind, ‘I will go down with this ship.’ And she will, because even if there is no saving Nathan Scott, at least not by her, she will stand by him. At least until he finds a not so damaged woman, who can love him completely, show him all of herself without any reservations. Then she will back away, knowing that he is in safe hands, until then she will stay. 

She doesn’t think it’s going to be that simple though. Nathan Scott has become her addiction. He is underneath her skin, apart of her. And she hates him for it. She hates herself for it. It wasn’t supposed to go this way. 

When he had insulted her hair, her looks, one of the few things she was sure of, it had surprised her how much the insult hurt coming from him. So, she had done what she always did, put up her walls and shot back, only with more venom, with the intention of causing him more hurt than he had her. Then he had to go and ask her on a date. What the hell was up with that?

Not only that, he had denied her the pain she was in need of that night. It was the only way she could feel something other than that constant ache. The only way to rid herself of the voices telling her over and over that it was her fault her mom was dead. Instead, he had made her feel even more. Something she swore she would never feel. Compassion. For someone who was just as, if not more, broken than her. 

He was Nathan Scott! The guy who fucked your brains out for one night, promised to call you but never did. She wanted that, needed that, and he had failed her. But, he hadn’t. Not at all. He, of all people, with his drinking binges and countless conquests, ended up being her hero. 

But, it wasn’t quite that simple. At least not in the beginning. Nathan still had countless girls all over him, and, of course, their new relationship didn’t stop him from resorting to old habits. It was how he coped with his new feelings, having to depend on someone for the first time in his life. He had done everything in his power to push her away, and she had pulled him. Just as he had stopped pushing and started pulling, she began pushing. 

Other people came and went from their dysfunctional relationship. There were drinking binges, and Peyton went from being with just one guy to having a list of so many sex partners she lost count. Together, they were toxic. Apart, the thought alone brought both of them to their knees. 

After all that, they are here, in this hospital room surrounded by the smell of death, with the knowledge that they have been blessed, though undeserving, with a second chance. To treat this thing they have like it is. Something that is nearly impossible to find in the fucked up world that environs them. Even if the version they have found is demented. 

He stirs, looking oddly small in the bed. His eyes open, looking around the room for her. He smiles when he finds her. 

“Hey,” he whispers. 

“Hey.” Her voice cracks. 

He opens his arms and says, “C’om ‘ere.” And she does.


End file.
